


Monster Within

by BreakfastTea



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Post Star Trek: Into Darkness, Spoilers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 08:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakfastTea/pseuds/BreakfastTea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on the LJ Kink Meme: http://strek-id-kink.livejournal.com/1695.html?thread=471199#t471199 - On an away mission, Jim is challenged to a battle for his crew, due to the enemy believing he's incredibly weak/feeble. Cue Jim with Khan!Super Strength fighting and completely bewildering (or turning on?) Spock/McCoy/Any other members of the away team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monster Within

“This is not good, Spock. This is beyond not good.”  
  
“I am aware of the trouble the situation presents.”  
  
McCoy glared at Spock.  “These negotiations were a joke from start to finish.  These people didn’t want to join the Federation.  They toyed with us.  And now look at us! We’re locked in a glass box in a damn gladiator pit and Jim’s gotta fight to the death against an alien being whose strength far outdoes that of any human!”  
  
“Thank you, Doctor, for the summary,” Spock replied.  
  
“He doesn’t stand a chance.”  
  
A loud alarm broke up the discussion before it could go any further.  From their glass cage at the side of the arena, Spock, McCoy and the four security officers making up the rest of the away team watched as the body of the previous loser was dragged out of sight.  It had been a short but bloody battle, the local champion taking no more than five seconds to rip his opponent limb from limb.  
  
McCoy was the first to look away.  “Jim will die, Spock.  We’re going to have to sit here and watch him die.”  
  
Accompanied by two guards, Kirk was shoved into the arena.  The crowd erupted, boos and insults booming out.  Kirk stumbled, his body already battered, clothes torn and bloody.  He managed to stay upright and raised his head to meet the being he was about to fight.  Like everyone on the planet, the warrior was seven feet tall, possessed four arms as thick as Kirk was wide and teeth strong enough to shred limbs – something the away team had had the misfortune of witnessing. But what separated the warrior from the planet’s other inhabitants were his muscles.  He bulged grotesquely, although the feverish crowd roared and cheered whenever he flexed them, and a large contingent of those fans appeared to be females of the species.  Even children sat in the crowd, waving banners with all manner of slogans and drawings on them.  Clearly, they were all big fans.  
  
“How did Starfleet’s previous surveys of this planet not pick this shit up? Murder’s a sport to them!” McCoy hissed.  “How can a civilisation as advanced as this be so damn barbaric?”  
  
“For all its advancements, Doctor, humanity is not without its –”  
  
“Utter one more word, Spock, and I’ll feed you to these bastards myself.”  
  
“Rescue is on its way.  My signal definitely got through their shielding,” Hendorff murmured quietly from behind.  “Fifteen minutes and we’ll be beamed out.”  
  
The arena’s lights died.  The crowd’s roar peaked and then ebbed.  A single spotlight activated, highlighting Kirk and the event’s smartly clad host.  High above, massive high-definition screens showed close ups of Kirk for those sat too far away to see him for themselves.  He looked like a small child beside the massive aliens, bleeding and blinking hard like force of will was the only thing keeping him upright.  And yet his spirit remained.  Kirk held his chin up and his face wore an expression of pure determination.  
  
“He can do this,” Hendorff said.  
  
While the host grandstanded for the crowds, his excited image showing on countless screens across the arena, his voice bellowing out of numerous massive speakers, McCoy kept his eyes on Kirk – or at least the image of him on the screen.  “Dammit, Jim.”  
  
“Doctor, try to contain yourself.”  
  
“Do you have any idea what – Oh, shit.  What the hell is that?”  
  
The host held a syringe aloft, sickly yellow liquid contained within.  The cameras zoomed in as the crowd fell silent.  There wasn’t a single sound from them.  The two guards beside Jim tackled him to the ground and held him there.  
  
The host raised his four arms, voice bellowing out.  His face filled the screens again. “Aren’t you tired of easy kills?”  
  
The warrior’s roar shook the glass.  
  
The host addressed the crowd.  “Doesn’t our hero deserve a real challenge?”  
  
The crowd bellowed their approval.  
  
“This _human_ thought he could come here and tell us we aren’t good enough, that we aren’t strong enough to stand alone in this universe.”  
  
Thousands of voices united in hatred.  
  
“This pathetic being, along with his band of cowards, thought they could blind us and shackle us! But look at him! See how he bleeds! Watch how easy it is to break bits of him.”  
  
A guard stamped of Kirk’s foot.  He swore loudly, the sound of it carried throughout the arena.  The crowd cackled and jeered.  
  
“Today we will show this Federation what we are! We will give this one a taste of our true strength, true power!” He shook the syringe.  “After all, we are a fair people.  He is weak, but we want a proper fight!”  
  
“YES!” the crowd bellowed.  
  
“We want a good match!”  
  
“GOOD MATCH!”  
  
“And we shall also prove to them that we are not without mercy.  Should their leader best our hero, his crew will be free to flee and tell their Federation what we are!”  
  
“THE BEST, THE GREATEST, STRONGER THAN ALL!”  
  
“Louder!”  
  
“ **THE BEST, THE GREATEST, STRONGER THAN ALL!”**  
  
“Cheesiest of all,” Hendorff murmured.  
  
McCoy agreed, but he was too anxious to speak.  
  
“But, should he fail to win within that minute, our warrior will beat him to a pulp and let him live long enough to watch his people die.  What do we think, exsanguination? Or is today a good day for dismemberment?”  
  
It took over a minute for the crowd to calm down long enough for the host to continue.  “It is time!”  
  
The needle jabbed Kirk’s neck, the contents pouring into his bloodstream.  He curled in on himself, but the violent tremors gripping his body were visible on every screen.  
  
The host wasn’t finished.  “For one minute, he will have our strength, our noble courage! He will show his kind with his own body what we are and why we need no one to defend us!"  
  
If the crowd got any more frenzied, they’d be falling from their seats.  
  
Kirk stilled.  
  
The host laughed.  “And then…”  
  
The crowd fell into breathless silence.  
  
“…after that one minute…”  
  
“Spock!”  
  
“Doctor, we must remain– ”  
  
“…our hero…”  
  
Rapturous cheering.  
  
“…will show these unworthy people…”  
  
Kirk stood, steady and firm.  
  
Emotionless.  
  
“…exactly how we treat…”  
  
Kirk moved.  
  
A single crack filled the arena, the sound of it echoing out of every speaker.  
  
The host collapsed in a heap, his neck broken.  He hadn’t had a chance to see what was coming.  No one had.  Even with his eyes on the screen, McCoy couldn’t recall the moment he watched it happen.  It was done in an instant.  One moment the host did his job, the next he was dead.  
  
This time, the crowd screamed in horror.  Then came the stampede.  
  
The two guards were next.  Kirk’s fist launched the closest into the crowd.  
  
The second wasn’t so lucky.  Kirk shook the blood off his fist.  
  
The warrior stepped in.  One massive fist caught Kirk’s torso, the other slamming into his head.  
  
Nothing.  No reaction.  Kirk lifted dispassionate eyes to look at the warrior, who took it as a sign to unleash a torrent of punches and kicks.  At one point he lifted Kirk off his feet and slammed in into the ground.  
  
Kirk stood up and idly brushed off his uniform.  
  
The warrior released a growl and attacked again.  Kirk occasionally blocked, as if to break the monotony of it, but nothing the warrior threw at him had any kind of effect.  
  
And then Kirk went on the offensive.  What he did was beyond human.  He leapt over the warrior’s head, landing behind him and turning in the space of a second.  His first punch brought the massive warrior to his knees.  The second knocked him to the ground.  
  
But the away team wasn’t cheering.  
  
“Oh shit,” McCoy breathed.  “Oh shit, shit, shit.”  
  
Kirk put one bare foot on the warrior’s massive head and pushed.  
  
The speakers did a fine job making every move heard over the sound of the crowd.  
  
But the warrior wasn’t done yet.  Unbelievably, some of the crowd had stayed for the fight and their shouts took on a hopeful edge as the warrior shoved Kirk away and staggered to his feet.  
  
The cold, hard look in Jim’s eyes would haunt anyone who survived long enough to dream about it.  
  
The warrior dropped into an offensive stance, bouncing lightly on his toes.  
  
Kirk grinned, a dark and terrible expression.  “Try it.”  
  
The warrior came again, but this time Kirk blocked everything with ease.  At one point, he seemed to flick the warrior’s fist away.  Kirk moved fast, too fast for a human.  
  
“The minute has passed,” Spock said, keeping his voice low so only McCoy would hear.  “Is it possible…”  
  
“Shut up, Spock, we both know what this is.”  
  
“How is that possible?”  
  
“I have no idea.  It shouldn’t be happening.”  
  
The fight went on.  Fresh blood coated Kirk’s hand as he smashed the warrior’s large nose.  The alien roared in agony, swinging blindly and landing a lucky blow.  He caught Kirk by surprise, knocking him back.  The warrior had impressive endurance.  Even bleeding and in pain, he didn’t let up.  
  
Neither did Kirk.  
  
“Damn, the captain’s a machine,” Hendorff said.  
  
One thing was obvious.  Kirk was toying with the warrior.  Worse, he seemed to be performing for the crowd.  A couple of times he hesitated and took a hit, the warrior earning frenzied shouts and screams.  But Kirk always rallied, always fought back, never went down and never showed signs of weakening.  
  
He did, however, grow bored.  And when he did, the warrior was doomed.  Kirk ducked low, sweeping the warrior’s feet out from under him.  The massive man crashed down.  The crowd gasped and shouted encouragement.  
  
And then screamed when Kirk placed his hands on the warrior’s skull and squeezed.  
  
Spock jolted.  “We must stop him.”  
  
McCoy stared.  He was watching his best friend crush someone to death.  Shoving Spock aside, McCoy pounded on the glass.  “Jim! Jim, let us out!”  
  
“Are you certain we should go out there with him?” Spock asked.  
  
McCoy ignored him.  He couldn’t let Kirk murder someone with his bare hands.  “Jim, come on! We’ve got to get back to the ship! Back to the crew!”  
  
Kirk stopped.  He let go of the warrior, who slumped to the ground and didn’t get up again.  Kicking his helpless opponent aside, Kirk jogged to the cell.  Electric blue eyes shone feverishly.  “Get back,” he told the away team.  
  
He smashed the glass with a single punch.  
  
No one moved, not even Spock.  
  
Kirk regarded them coolly, eyebrow arched.  “Do I need to drag you out?”  
  
Spock finally stepped up.  “Captain, we are grateful for the rescue, however…”  
  
McCoy interrupted.  “It’s enough now, Jim, you don’t need to…”  
  
Weapons fired.  Jim shoved Spock and McCoy back, bullets (and who the hell used bullets anymore?) whistling through the air.  
  
“Take cover,” Kirk ordered.  
  
He was gone before anyone could stop him.  The security officers, led by Hendorff, followed their captain, but they weren’t needed.  The gunfire didn’t last long.  
  
The horrified cries echoed for longer.  
  
Spock moved to Hendorff.  “We may need to incapacitate the captain,” he said.  “You should find suitable weapons.”  
  
Hendorff nodded.  “The drugs, right?”  
  
Spock didn’t miss a beat.  “Precisely.”  
  
Hendorff issued orders and the security officers moved off.  Spock returned to McCoy who was at the fallen warrior’s side.  
  
“He’s still alive, Spock.  I don’t know how to help him, but… but he’s not dead.”  
  
Spock noticed Jim tossing the last shooter aside.  “He may not have long to live if we do not stop the captain.”  
  
“I don’t understand,” McCoy said.  “It’s been over a year and there’s never been any hint of anything like this.  The serum was perfect.  It rebuilt cells, it didn’t enhance him in any way.  This shouldn’t be possible.”  
  
“Whatever drug he was injected with must have triggered the reaction.”  
  
“Forget the obvious, Spock.  How do we stop him? You know better than anyone what it took to take Khan down.”  
  
Spock visibly bristled.  “I am unlikely to forget.”  
  
Kirk returned.  “Ready to move out?” But before anyone could answer, he noticed Hendorff’s people gathering weapons.  “Forget it, I’ve got us covered.”  
  
“Jim, you’re one man,” McCoy said.  Out the corner of his eye, he noticed Spock moving.  “We’ve got to get out of here and wait for the beam out.  Hendorff, how much longer?”  
  
“Twelve minutes, sir.”  
  
Kirk stared at him.  “I don’t need help.” The emotionless delivery chilled McCoy.  “I’m more than enough now, aren’t I, _Doctor_?”  
  
McCoy did his best to swallow his discomfort.  “Yeah, yeah, I know, that’s obvious, but – ”  
  
Jim stretched his arms, muscles tensing.  “Why don’t you all wait here, I’ll keep those fuckers out and you can sit pretty and wait for the beam out.”  
  
“That’s okay, Jim.” McCoy didn’t take his eyes off his friend, even as Spock closed in on Kirk from behind.  “We should get back to the ship, make sure everyone’s all right, then you can call up Starfleet and thank them for sending us to this fucked up place.”  
  
“No.  No, that’s not what I want to do.”  
  
“Oh? And what would you rather do?”  
  
Ice cold blue eyes regarded McCoy.  “Wipe them out.”  
  
“Jim…”  
  
Spock struck, hand poised to deliver a nerve pinch.  
  
Kirk stopped him without looking.  “What are you trying to do, Commander?” He held Spock’s wrist in his hand.  “What, you think you can stop me?” He squeezed harder.  Spock grunted in pain.  “You think you can beat me now?”  
  
McCoy stepped closer.  “Jim, come on.  Think about this for a moment.  You can’t go after these people.  Let them go, they’re not worth it.”  
  
“Not worth joining the Federation, I agree.  But it’s a nice planet in a well-placed solar system.  We could use it.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Captain, you are under the influence –”  
  
“Shut up, Spock, and maybe I won’t snap your wrist.  I can, you know.”  
  
“Let him go!” McCoy said.  “What the hell is wrong with you?”  
  
“Wrong with me?” Kirk said.  He released Spock, twisted around and kicked him away.  He turned back to McCoy.  “Nothing’s wrong.  I’m fine.  Better than fine.  You should know, Bones, you’re the reason I’m like this.”  
  
“No…”  
  
“Oh, come on, don’t be such an infant.” It was a horrible parody.  “This is helpful, right? You’d all still be locked down if I wasn’t so good, so strong.  You’re all safe now.  I can get us out of here.”  
  
“You just attacked Spock! Stop and think for a moment!”  
  
Sirens drowned out Kirk’s response.  People came pouring into the arena, clad in body armour and wielding large weapons.  
  
One person stood ahead of the well-armed crowd, loudspeaker in hand.  “Surrender immediately or face destruction!”  
  
A broad smirk twisted Kirk’s features.  
  
McCoy grabbed him.  “Jim. Don’t.  You can’t hurt these people.”  
  
“They don’t seem interested in leaving us unharmed.”  
  
“We’ve just got to wait for the beam out, Jim.  It won’t be long.”  
  
“Too long.  You’d rather die, Bones?”  
  
“I’d rather not watch a good man become a cold blooded killer.”  
  
Kirk faltered.  
  
Hope seized McCoy.  “Don’t give into it.”  
  
Something flickered in Kirk’s eyes.  “I’m on fire, Bones.  It’s eating away at me.  If I don’t fight…”  
  
“It’s all right, Jim.  Stand down.  We can…”  
  
Pain erupted in his leg.  It gave out, but Kirk grabbed him, holding him up.  “Bones?”  
  
McCoy looked down and saw blood and bone.  His blood and bone.  “Jim…”  
  
For a moment, horror washed across Kirk’s face.  But then all emotion disappeared from his eyes.  He passed McCoy to Spock, told them not to move and took off.  
  
“No, no, no!” McCoy tried to move, but the pain in his leg stopped him, not to mention the blood loss and subsequent dizziness.  “Spock, we’ve got to stop him.”  
  
“I am unclear as to how we can do that, Doctor.”  
  
“As soon as we’re beamed up, we’ve got to knock him out and keep him out until I can fix him.” His thoughts ran through his fingers.  He couldn’t keep anything straight.  “What can I do? There’s got to be a way, Spock.”  
  
“You should be more concerned with your own wellbeing.”  
  
The shouting and shooting continued.  Hendorff and the other security officers laid down cover fire, but Kirk wasn’t wrong; he didn’t need the help.  Bodies smacked walls, the floor, even the ceiling, but the fight went on, more people coming, more guns firing.  And through it all, Kirk was relentless, never stilling, never falling, never sparing a single being.  
  
“How much longer, Spock?” McCoy asked.  “He’s tearing them apart!”  
  
“Eight minutes, Doctor.” Spock pressed his hands to McCoy’s wound.  “I doubt any of us could stop him without some kind of stun weapon.”  
  
Three minutes later, it was over and Kirk returned.  He was dripping in blood, some of it red, the rest of it thick black.  His skin was unhealthily pale under the muck.  He teetered, not quite capable of standing still.  He was breathing hard.  But it was the look in his eyes that panicked McCoy, more than his own injuries.  
  
“Jim?”  
  
There was nothing haughty in Kirk’s eyes now, nothing smug or self-satisfied.  He looked terrified.  “Bones, your leg.”  
  
“Forget it.”  
  
“I can’t.  I can’t.  I didn’t get there quick enough.”  
  
“Jim…”  
  
He turned away.  “Hendorff?”  
  
“Fine, sir.  We all are.”  
  
“Spock?”  
  
“I am unharmed.”  
  
“No you’re not.  I… your arm… I…”  
  
“It is inconsequential.”  
  
“Bullshit.” Kirk held shaking hands to his head, blood matting his hair.  “I… I lost it… I’m…”  
  
Black fuzz gathered at the edges of McCoy’s eyes.  “Don’t worry, Jim.  We’ll fix it… We…” McCoy’s eyes rolled back, his body going slack.  
  
“Bones?”  
  
“Doctor McCoy has lost consciousness due to blood loss,” Spock said.  
  
Kirk punched the ground.  He broke through the white concrete.  
  
Without releasing his grip on McCoy’s wound, Spock stared at Kirk.  “You must focus.  You cannot give into your anger.”  
  
“Five minutes ‘til beam out, Captain,” Hendorff called.  
  
“Spock, what’s happening to me? I… I’m…” He stared at his blood-drenched hands.  “Those bastards shot Bones!” He reached out to check McCoy’s pulse, black blood smudging over pale skin.  “Don’t you dare die on me.  I swear I’ll make them pay.”  
  
“Captain, it would seem highly probable you have already disarmed the person responsible for Doctor McCoy’s injury.”  
  
“They tried to kill you all.  They wanted… they would’ve… In the cell, they swore they’d take down the ship.  I can’t let them do that.” The tremors stopped.  Kirk stood, pacing back and forth wildly.  “I have to protect the crew.”  
  
“There is nothing more you need to do,” Spock said.  For one illogical moment, he wished McCoy was conscious.  The doctor had a way with words Spock could not imitate.  “We are safe and it is highly unlikely this planet possesses any weaponry capable of harming the _Enterprise._ ”  
  
“We’re not safe yet,” Kirk said.  “More will be coming.  I heard calls for back up.”  
  
“Captain, you must not leave us.  You cannot continue this course of action.  To do so is certain to damage your mental health.”  
  
Kirk didn’t seem to hear.  “I’ll lead them away.  You’ll be safe until the beam out, I swear.”  
  
“Jim, you cannot destroy people because you are angry.”  
  
“They’re trying to kill us!”  
  
“You are not acting like yourself.”  
  
“I have to protect the crew! That’s my job! That’s why I’m like this!”  
  
“No.  You must stop before your actions resemble Khan’s any further.”  
  
The next thing Spock knew, he was picking himself off the ground.  Kirk was gone.  Distant gunfire sounded out.  
  
“Sorry, sir,” Hendorff said, helping Spock back to his feet.  The security officer had a swollen cheek and blood washed across his right eye.  “He took us all out before we could stop him.  But we’ll be beamed out in two minutes.”  
  
“When we are beamed back to the ship, call a security team to the transporter room immediately.  They must set their phasers to stun and shoot the captain.” Spock crouched down to take McCoy’s pulse.  It was sluggish, and the doctor was dangerously pale, but he was still breathing.  He wrapped his hands over the bullet wound and applied pressure.  “We must stop him.”  
  
“Shoot the captain,” Hendorff stated blankly.  
  
“If we do not, it is highly likely he will overpower anyone in his path to get revenge.”  
  
“Revenge for what?”  
  
“Our treatment and injuries at the hands of this planet’s population.  He is not in his right mind.”  
  
“Understood, sir.”  
  
The time passed, the distant sound of battle never fading away.  Spock weighed up the logic of going after Kirk but decided against it.  If he was to let go of McCoy’s wound, it would severely diminish the doctor’s chance of survival.  
  
After precisely two minutes, light raced around them, taking them away from the arena and returning them to the ship.  
  
Kirk was there too, crouched down, arm poised mid-punch.  He finished the move when he materialised, smashing the panel, fragments embedding themselves in his hand.  
  
Hendorff moved immediately, racing to the nearest console and summoning armed security officers.  Blinded by rage, Kirk didn’t appear to know where he was.  He took a swing at the nearest officer, smacking the unsuspecting woman into the bulkhead.  
  
Hendorff returned and took over for Spock, applying pressure to McCoy’s wound.  
  
Spock stood, placing himself between Kirk and everyone else.  “Enough, Captain.  We are back aboard the ship.  There is no one here you need to fight.”  
  
“Get out of my way, Spock.” Kirk’s voice was a harsh growl.  
  
“You must cease these actions.  The crew is safe.”  
  
“No one’s safe while those people are down there.” Kirk took a step forwards.  “I will wipe them off the planet!”  
  
“Look at yourself,” Spock said.  “Look at the blood covering you.  Do you know how many you attacked? Do you have any idea how many you killed?”  
  
“Not enough.”  
  
“Jim, you are a better man than this.”  
  
“They said I was weak.”  
  
“We know you are not, and surely it is the crew’s opinion you value the most.”  
  
Kirk’s body thrummed with rage.  His eyes were made wilder by the blood dripping down his face.  “The crew must be kept safe.”  
  
“They are safe.  Every one of them.”  
  
“Look at Bones! He’s wounded, he’s…”  
  
“He’s expecting to wake up and find a friend waiting for him, not a murderer.”  
  
Kirk put his hand through the bulkhead and into the wiring behind it.  His body jolted as the current ran through him, but he did not fall.  He pulled his hand out.  “I have to make them pay!”  
  
“No, you do not.”  
  
The security team arrived, phasers ready, awaiting orders.  They were followed closely by the medical team who grabbed McCoy and dashed back out again.  No one dared interrupt Spock or Kirk.  
  
Kirk was psychotically calm.  “I could walk across that world and slaughter every one of them.”  
  
“You will not.”  
  
Kirk sneered at him.  “Think you can stop me?”  
  
“I believe you will stop yourself.  You are more than this, more than anger and revenge.  You are not Khan.”  
  
“Stop saying his name!”  
  
“Then perhaps you should cease your imitation of his behaviour.”  
  
Kirk’s fist met Spock’s jaw. Staggering back, Spock ducked down as the security team fired on Hendorff’s orders.  Numerous stuns hit Kirk at once, but it wasn’t enough.  
  
He stared at the crowd.  “I’m trying to protect you from them! From everything out there! I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you, don’t you see that?”  
  
“You have been drugged, Captain, and it is having an adverse reaction.  Allow us to help you and –”  
  
“You? Help me?” Kirk laughed.  “I’m better! I don’t need any of you!”  
  
Spock stepped to the side.  “Fire again,” he ordered.  
  
Caged in the transporter pad, Kirk had nowhere to go and took several more shots.  He staggered, falling to one knee, but he picked himself up. He teetered, falling back several steps until the bulkhead caught him.  
  
“That was a very, very bad idea.”  
  
He attacked before Spock could react.  Security officers slammed into the walls.  The transporter chief ducked under his console.  Hendorff managed to call for backup, but then Kirk grabbed him and threw him across the room.  
  
“Last two standing,” Kirk said.  “It’s just you and me, Spock.”  
  
“I apologise, Captain, for what I’m about to do.”  
  
“What, lose?”  
  
“No.”  
  
Spock engaged logic and attacked, overwhelming Kirk with a flurry of well-aimed blows to numerous weak points.  Thanks to the cumulative effect of the stuns finally taking hold, Kirk was slower to react, giving Spock the upper hand and the chance to move in for the final move.  He grabbed Kirk in a headlock, applying the right amount of pressure to cut off his airway.  Kirk struggled, but his limbs lacked coordination.  Slowly but surely, he succumbed.  
  
When Kirk was unconscious, Spock carefully lowered him to the ground.  “Transport the captain to the brig,” he ordered the transporter chief.  
  
“Aye sir.”  
  
Kirk disappeared in a flash of buzzing light.  Various crewmembers picked themselves off the ground.  There were a few shaky laughs and a couple of groans.  Even Spock gave himself a moment to regain his composure.  
  
“Contact sickbay and tell them to bring a powerful sedative, multiple doses, to the brig,” he calmly ordered Hendorff.  “Meet us there and have a team ready in case we need to… subdue the captain again.”  
  
“Aye, sir.” Hendorff and the team jogged out of the transporter room.  
  
Spock moved to the console and contacted the bridge.  “Lieutenant Uhura, have we been hailed by anyone on the planet?”  
  
“ _Yes, sir, multiple times.  They have made numerous threats._ ”  
  
“ _Sir, sensors have picked up a range of weapons systems activating across the planet._ ” It was Lieutenant Sulu.  “ _None of them could harm the_ Enterprise.”  
  
“Take us out of orbit,” Spock ordered.  “Lieutenant Uhura, ensure Starfleet is made aware of the hostile nature of this world.”  
  
“ _Aye, sir._ ”  
  
Spock went to the brig.  Kirk was still out, only this time it was thanks to the drugs Doctor M’Benga pumped into him.  There were new bruises and bloody noses among the security staff, and one of Hendorff’s ensigns was on the ground nursing a severely broken arm.  
  
“He came out swinging,” Hendorff said.  
  
“Report, Doctor,” Spock said.  
  
“Hold on,” M’Benga said, his eyes on his tricorder.  “Let me finish this scan.”  
  
Only when M’Benga assured the awaiting security staff that Kirk was completely and utterly under did they relax and let their weapons drop.  They stepped out of the brig and Hendorff sealed it behind them.  
  
“It took a lot to keep him out, Commander,” M’Benga told Spock.  “I can’t explain what’s happening, but his body chemistry has changed.  I’ve taken a blood sample, but a normal human would be dead with the amount of sedative currently in his system.  He’ll need a dose that large every few hours to keep him down, but I can’t recommend it as a course of action.  It’s too dangerous.”  
  
“Is it possible to undo the change?” Spock asked.  
  
“Doctor McCoy will know, given the captain’s unique… ah… condition.” M’Benga gave Spock a pointed look.  Spock nodded.  The truth of how Kirk had survived death was not widely known among the crew.  “The problem is McCoy’s still in surgery.  That bullet did a lot of damage.  I’ll run some tests, see if there’s anything obvious.  For now, the only thing we can do is keep the captain sedated and hope it’s enough.”  
  
“Understood.”  
  
M’Benga helped the wounded ensign to her feet.  Together they left for the medbay.  For a moment no one spoke, like no one quite knew how to react to the sight of their captain in the brig.  Naturally, Spock was the first to recover.  
  
“Should the captain awaken, alert the bridge and medical immediately,” Spock told Hendorff.  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
“Under no circumstances should he be allowed out,” Spock added.  “Nor should anyone enter the cell alone.”  
  
Hendorff touched his rapidly bruising face.  “Definitely not, sir.”  
  
***  
  
Several hours later, once the _Enterprise_ was far away from the planet and Starfleet were aware of the trouble, Spock received word that McCoy was not only conscious but also working hard.  Leaving the bridge in Sulu’s capable hands, Spock headed to the medbay.  He found McCoy in one of the labs, still clad in scrubs and his wounded leg propped up on a spare chair.  His hair stuck up at wild angles and his skin had yet to regain its usual healthy tone, but he wore a look of intense concentration and Spock knew better than to pass any comments regarding McCoy’s condition.  
  
“I’ve isolated the reaction and I’m synthesising an antidote,” he said by way of greeting.  
  
“Doctor, it is good to see you up and about.”  
  
“Yeah, well, don’t tell M’Benga.  He’ll pitch a fit and none of us have time for it.”  
  
“Jim is heavily sedated.”  
  
“Oh, so that makes the whole super strength and paranoid rage thing absolutely fine.  My bad.  Let me just get right back into bed and sleep the day away.”  
  
“I merely meant there is no need for unnecessary haste.”  
  
“So you like this murderous version of Jim?”  
  
“I do not,” Spock admitted.  “It has proved extremely disconcerting.”  
  
“It was driving him mad, Spock, couldn’t you see?”  
  
“Of course I could.  But, as I stated previously, you should not disregard your own needs.  Jim would not thank you.”  
  
“Yeah, well, maybe I want my friend back so I can move past the nightmares before I have time to actually have them.”  
  
“Then perhaps it would be best if you do not administer the antidote yourself.”  
  
“What? Why?”  
  
“While I cannot estimate how many people Jim injured or killed, he remains covered in large quantities of alien blood.  The sight, Doctor, would not be conducive to a restful sleep.”  
  
McCoy sat back from the microscope.  “Dammit, Spock.  This was never meant to happen, but this is a kick to the guts kind of reminder.  I had no idea what I was doing when I used Khan’s blood.  We’re lucky it took this long for the shit to hit the fan.  We’re luckier still I can reverse it.”  
  
“The damage has already occurred.”  
  
“But at least I can make Jim himself again.  Again.”  
  
“Can you guarantee we will not repeat today’s events?”  
  
“I think so.  The drug he was injected with should’ve enhanced his normal strength, but there are markers left in his blood from… from last year and it reacted with them.  What I’m creating now should neutralise them permanently.”  
  
“I have no desire to ever witness Jim in such a state again.”  
  
“You, me and everyone else who saw it, Spock.  I think the only thing that kept him from turning on us was his humanity.”  
  
Spock’s fingers traced his aching wrist.  “Give adequate time, I doubt that would have stopped him.”  
  
“I know.  It’s gonna be up to us to stop him from brooding.”  
  
“A curious human trait,” Spock observed.  “Rather than continuing on, you insist upon endlessly looking back and devising countless strategies to fix problems it is no longer possible to mend.”  
  
“We can’t all be perfect thinking machines.”  
  
Spock chose not to comment, and a beep from the computer simulation stopped McCoy from questioning him further.  He glanced at the results, sighed and rubbed his eyes.  “The first permutations are no good.  There are another five simulations running.” He winced suddenly and reached for his leg.  “One of them should be the right antidote.”  
  
“You should rest while these simulations occur,” Spock said.  “As the ship’s chief medical officer, it is your duty to set a good example for the rest of the crew.”  
  
“Didn’t you know doctors make the worst patients?”  
  
“That is illogical.”  
  
“You would say that.” McCoy grunted as he shifted position.  
  
“Can I help you back to bed?”  
  
“What? No! How can I rest at a time like this? This is Jim we’re talking about.”  
  
“Who would only suffer further guilt when he discovers your condition.”  
  
“Oh, fine, fine!” He held out a hand.  “Help me up.”  
  
Spock did so and guided McCoy back to his bed.  
  
“This is weird,” McCoy muttered as he hopped, leaning heavily on Spock.  
  
“In what way?”  
  
“…Never mind.”  
  
Back in bed, McCoy settled back with a heavy sigh.  “That feels so much better.”  
  
“Rest, Doctor.”  
  
Spock needn’t have spoken.  McCoy was already asleep.  
  
***  
  
Guards surrounded him, more than he could count.  
  
If he didn’t stop them, they would slaughter the crew.  
  
They laughed.  They called him weak.  
  
He tore them apart.  
  
Blood.  It oozed down the walls, dripped from the ceiling, splashed underfoot.  
  
Bodies.  More than he could count, piled up around him.  Dead.  How many had he killed?  
  
He looked at his hands.  He could feel the memory of his actions in his muscles.  Every hit, every…  
  
Every time he punched through flesh and bone to the organs within.  
  
It scared him now.  It sickened him now…  
  
…but hadn’t he _enjoyed it?_ The power, the ease…  
  
He stared at his hands.  What was he? What had he become?  
  
A murderer.  
  
A monster.  
  
He stumbled backwards.  He hit the wall, his clothes sticking to the blood.  How… how could he… what was he supposed to… Could he even…  
  
Hands grabbed him.  Roaring voices filled his head.  They pulled him back, into the wall, but it wasn’t a wall, it was a river of black gore, limbs he couldn’t see bumping against him.  
  
He was going under.  He tried to pull free, sinking into thick, hot blood.  He couldn’t get out.  Blood filled his ears, coated his cheeks, filled his mouth, his nose, blinded…  
  
He jolted awake.  Lights.  Humming.  Beeping.  
  
The ship.  
  
The _Enterprise._  
  
Kirk gasped for breath, trying to steady his heart.  
  
“Jim?”  
  
He looked and saw McCoy, Spock and a pair of security guards.  
  
Armed security guards.  
  
He wasn’t in the medbay.  
  
This was the brig.  
  
It hadn’t been a mere nightmare.  
  
Dizzy and nauseous, Kirk put his head between his legs and tried to catch his breath.  
  
“Sorry ‘bout the accommodation, but we had to make sure you wouldn’t be able to break out if you were still raging mad,” McCoy said, tricorder present and scanning.  “Spock, give it to him.”  
  
Spock stepped forward and handed over a small metallic ball.  “The doctor wishes to see if you can crush this.”  
  
Flustered and still half-asleep, Kirk took the ball and squeezed.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
McCoy ordered the guards out of the cell.  “Okay, Jim.  Looks like the drugs are out of your system and the effects have subsided.  No more super powers for you.”  
  
Kirk passed the ball back to Spock.  “How many?”  
  
“How many what?”  
  
“Did I kill, Bones?”  
  
“Unknown,” Spock answered when McCoy faltered.  “But thanks to you, the away team survived.”  
  
“You’re all right, Bones?”  
  
McCoy patted his leg.  “I’ll have a limp for a few more days, but it’s fine.  Let’s make sure you are too, okay? You’ve been out for a couple of days.  Even slept through a sponge bath and an outfit change.”  
  
Kirk shook his head.  “I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.”  
  
“It’s okay.  Don’t worry about it.”  
  
Kirk didn’t reply.  He stared at the white ground, trying to feel something other than revulsion.  
  
“Captain, I can assure you that what happened on the planet cannot happen again.  We created an antidote to –”  
  
Nodding occasionally, Kirk nevertheless tuned out Spock’s explanation.  All he could hear were the screams of the dying as he tore through their bodies, their blood coating his hands, his face, his body…  
  
How many lives?  
  
“Jim?”  
  
“I was angry,” he said slowly.  “So angry.  And all I could think of was…” Attack. Protect. Kill if necessary. “The crew.  I had to protect you all.”  
  
Except when they tried to stop him.  Then they became a threat too.  
  
“We are all grateful,” Spock said.  “The crew believes you suffered an adverse reaction to alien drugs.  There is no reason to suspect they now fear you.”  
  
“Good,” Kirk said.  Maybe that would be enough to hold the nightmares at bay.  He stared at his hand, clean fingers curling into a fist.  “You’re sure about me, Bones?”  
  
“Positive.  I tested and retested the formula.  What happened on that planet can’t happen again.  Ever.”  
  
“Good.” Kirk rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stood.  “Am I free to go?”  
  
“Yeah, but you’re off duty for another couple of days.  We had to keep you pretty heavily sedated and I want to make sure there’re no lingering effects.” Bones waved at the security officer posted at the control panel and the cell opened.  “Get some proper rest and I’ll stop by later to check on you, all right?”  
  
“Okay.” He turned to Spock.  “And the ship’s all right?”  
  
“Everything is functioning within normal parameters, Captain.”  
  
“All right.  Keep me posted.”  
  
Kirk left his friends in the brig without another word.  Calmly greeting members of the crew he passed on his way, he slipped into his quarters, staggered to the bathroom and made it to the toilet just in time to be violently sick.  
  
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the massacre, felt himself ending lives with his bare hands.  
  
He vomited until his stomach ached, his throat burned and tears soaked his cheeks.  Unable to move, he curled up on the floor of the bathroom, his thoughts drifting.  
  
Blood and screams.  
  
He’d been bathed in their blood, its heat scalded his skin.  It was gone now, long gone, but he could feel it all over him.  
  
And then the crew… he’d attacked them too, viewed them as… as lesser beings.

Kirk threw himself into the shower without undressing.  Hot water poured over him.  He stayed under the torrent.  It was pointless, he knew.  There was nothing to wash off.  And yet he couldn’t get out from under the water, couldn’t find the strength to stand.  
  
McCoy found him there hours later.  The water had long since run cold.  
  
“Come on, Jim,” McCoy said, guiding his sodden friend to his feet and into the embrace of a large, thick towel.  
  
Led like a child, Kirk didn’t resist or help as McCoy undressed, redressed him and put him to bed.  
  
“You’ll be all right,” McCoy said.  “It was the drugs, Jim.  Just the drugs.”  
  
“I tore them apart,” Kirk whispered.  “It’s all I can think about.”  
  
“You’ll get through this,” McCoy said.  “You will.”  
  
Kirk swallowed hard.  What could he possibly say?  
  
McCoy barrelled on.  “You did it to save people.”  
  
“I nearly broke Spock’s arm.  I would’ve.  I threw my own crew around.”  
  
He’d enjoyed it.  
  
“Drugs and adrenaline, Jim.  They can wreck anyone’s ability to think clearly.”  
  
“I don’t want to be a monster, Bones.”  
  
“You’re not.  You never will be.”  
  
Kirk rolled onto his side, his back to McCoy.  
  
“Jim?”  
  
“You’re right, Bones.” Kirk closed his eyes and saw it all again, and again. The arena, the host whose neck had snapped so easily.  The guards, especially the second one… the security forces, their angry faces transformed by terror and then blood.  So much blood.  “I’m gonna be fine.”  
  
“You need to rest.  You’ll be fine in time.”  
  
Kirk wondered who McCoy was trying to convince.

**Author's Note:**

> I just could not resist the prompt!
> 
> (Also, CUPCAKE LIVES! I refuse to believe he and his friend didn't make it back from Kronos, okay? Great!)
> 
> Thanks for reading ^_^


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